


Around the World

by silentdescant



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Sleepy Sex, Travel, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: Mitch and Scott have some fun in a hotel room.





	1. Chapter 1

Traveling always makes Mitch anxious and snappy, and after a full day of being so tightly wound, he’s just exhausted. He drags his suitcase behind him and has to keep adjusting his handbag on his shoulder because the cross-body strap broke at the airport, and he’s more than ready to be in a bed with his laptop doing some online retail therapy. His phone is dead, so he can’t even call and see if Scott has checked in yet, and the concierge wouldn’t tell him anything, because apparently it violates their privacy policy, which doesn’t even make sense.

Mitch finally reaches their room and juggles his bag and his useless phone and the handle to his suitcase until he has a free hand to use the key card. The lights inside are off, but Scott should’ve arrived at least two hours ago—maybe he’s down at the gym, or out at a bar, or… something. Mitch sighs and drags his stuff across the threshold, reaching with his elbow to press the light switch.

As soon as he rounds the corner and enters the room proper, he stops in his tracks. Standing in the open doorway to the balcony is Scott, framed by curtains gently fluttering in the ocean breeze and a beautiful pink sunset, wearing nothing but his underwear. It’s hard to look away from his gloriously tanned skin, and the sparse, light chest hair spanning his pecs, but out of the corner of Mitch’s eye he sees the white sheets on the bed dotted with red rose petals.

“Are you kidding me?” he breathes.

“The guy at the front desk called and said you were on your way up, so I turned off the—”

Mitch drops his things and dashes across the room. He leaps at Scott with his arms and legs outstretched, and Scott catches him easily. As Mitch locks his ankles around Scott’s back, Scott clutches at him, holding him tight with one hand between his shoulder blades and the other at the back of his head. Scott doesn’t stumble at all, suddenly having Mitch in his arms; he steps decisively into the room and Mitch closes his eyes. They’re spinning, he can feel it, but he’s too focused on tasting Scott’s tongue, nibbling at his lower lip and switching angles so Scott can do the same. Their noses bump together and it feels so familiar, Scott’s scent and his taste and the rough texture of his beard overwhelming Mitch’s senses.

“I missed you,” Scott sighs. “Let’s never travel separately again.”

“Okay.”

Scott grins. “Are you ready to start this vacation?”

Biting his lip, Mitch cranes his neck to look at the bed. The comforter is pristine, white as untouched snow, and so plush and inviting, but the deep red of the scattered rose petals looks so beautiful… “I don’t want to ruin it,” he says. “Is that silly? I just—”

Scott cups Mitch’s cheek, turns his face forward again. “Then let’s not,” he growls. He curls his hand around the back of Mitch’s head again, gently scratching Mitch’s scalp and ruffling the short hair.

In a move that almost gives Mitch whiplash, Scott spins them around and slams Mitch against the wall. His hands are protective, easing the force of the impact, and Mitch groans at the sudden tensing of Scott’s biceps. He pushes both hands through Scott’s hair and finds it soft and product-free, the perfect texture to clench in his fists and tug.

They kiss for a few eternal moments before Scott taps Mitch’s thigh and helps him slide to his feet. He kisses Mitch’s neck, nibbles at his collarbone while Mitch takes off his jeans, and while Mitch strips off his shirt, Scott pushes his underwear down his thighs. They kick their discarded clothes out of the way and Scott gives Mitch a subtle nod. Mitch hops back up and Scott catches him just as before. Mitch locks his ankles again, squeezing his thighs tight around Scott’s hips.

With no fabric separating them now, Mitch can feel the hot, hard length of Scott’s cock pressing up against his ass. He rolls his hips, grinding between Scott and the wall at his back. Scott pushes two fingers into Mitch’s mouth and Mitch laves his tongue against them, wetting them. Scott pulls them from Mitch’s lips with a soft pop and slides his hand between Mitch’s legs, forcing his way under Mitch’s thigh. The new position dislodges Mitch’s ankles and he slips against the wall, grabbing at Scott’s shoulders to stay upright.

Scott spends only a moment stretching him and Mitch settles into the gentle thrusts, distracting them both with demanding kisses. Scott’s beard tickles Mitch’s palm, and he scratches his fingernails through it, delighting in Scott’s groan.

Scott resituates them again, hooking both arms beneath Mitch’s knees and pushing him back more forcefully into the wall. He spreads his legs a little, redistributing their combined weight and finding his leverage, and Mitch clings to Scott’s firm shoulders, only mildly concerned.

“Honey, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” he finally mutters as Scott practically bends him in half. It’s not uncomfortable, exactly, but it’s not a position that either of them can maintain for long.

Mitch groans then as Scott lines up and pushes in. Gravity does a lot of the work, and Scott’s hands are comfortingly strong around his back, holding him steady. It’s a struggle to force his body to accept Scott at first, and Mitch knows he’s scratching Scott’s shoulders, digging his fingernails in a little too hard, but Scott doesn’t complain.

“I’ll be fine,” Scott tells him. The next question, _Will you?_ is there, unspoken, in the gentle lift of Scott’s eyebrows.

Mitch breathes for a few seconds as their bodies settle together, tension easing as familiarity takes over. He meets Scott’s gaze and nods.

It takes a moment for Scott to establish a rhythm, but the way he grips Mitch’s body, manhandles him into meeting each thrust, leaves Mitch completely at his mercy. Scott drives the breath from Mitch’s lungs, pushing so deep that Mitch has trouble thinking. Overwhelming pleasure makes his vision hazy. He reaches up and back, searching for purchase on the smooth wall. There’s nothing within his grasp, nothing to cling to but Scott.

He can’t keep his eyes open. His sweaty shoulders slide against the wall. He reaches between their bodies and wraps his hand around his cock, finding it slick with dripping precome. Mitch’s hand is on autopilot, and he strokes himself without thinking. He can’t put together coherent thoughts at all, in fact. When he comes, he loses track of everything, of his own body, of Scott’s body, and Scott’s panting breaths and hot lips, and all the places their skin touches, all the places they connect. It’s like they’re one person, and though he can’t feel it when Scott comes, Scott’s orgasm makes Mitch shudder and gasp just as hard as his own.

Scott sets him down carefully, crowding him against the wall with their chests flush together and their breaths mingled until Mitch’s legs stop shaking and he manages to find his balance. Scott folds down and wraps his arms around Mitch’s back and kisses him.

Mitch sighs into Scott’s mouth and lets Scott’s kiss reaffirm him, ground him back in his own body. He returns Scott’s embrace, looping his arms up around Scott’s neck, and when they part, they sway together to the steady beat of an unheard tune. It’s slower than his own racing heart, and it soothes him to be in Scott’s arms. Mitch looks over Scott’s shoulder at the rose petals, the crisply made bed. Here he is, dripping with come after being fucked into the wall, but the bed is so romantic and clean and inviting. He’s already looking forward to round two.

Mitch bites his lip to keep from grinning, but Scott notices it anyway. He can hear Scott’s answering smile when he puts his lips to Mitch’s ear and whispers, “Welcome to Greece.”

 

 _fin_.


	2. I Miss Missing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mitch goes to Paris for Fashion Week.

As much as Mitch wants to stay out and party, his eyes keep drifting to half-mast. He’s swaying on his feet as he rides the elevator up to his hotel room, and he can’t even blame it on the movement of the elevator, because he nearly stumbles into the wall when he’s trying to swipe his key card through the slot on his door a few minutes later. The quiet comfort of the pristine hotel room makes him want to collapse face-first on the bed, but he has to at least take off his clothes. They’ll wrinkle if he doesn’t.

He makes a quick call to room service and orders some tea—it’s probably the jetlag making him feel so worn thin and run down, but the long flight with its dry, recirculated air certainly didn’t help. By the time he’s done washing his face and swaddling himself in the plush hotel robe, the tea has arrived.

Mitch settles into bed with a mug in his hand and his computer in his lap. It’s two—no, wait, three in the afternoon back in Los Angeles. He tries to FaceTime with Scott twice before giving up with a sigh. Mitch thought afternoon would be the perfect time to check in, even if it was just for a minute. Scott must be with some people, if he’s ignoring Mitch’s calls.

It’s only been a day, but Mitch misses him. He doesn’t even want to talk about anything in particular. He just wants to hear Scott’s voice, just to say goodnight.

He sips his tea slowly, letting the warmth soothe his body while he watches videos on his laptop. It isn’t until the hot tea trickles onto his bare chest that Mitch realizes he’s dozing off with his drink in his hand.

“Fuck,” he hisses, quickly shoving his computer out of harm’s way as he soaks up the spilled tea with his robe. It’s time for bed, clearly.

The computer, the remnants of his tea, his phone, everything gets piled together on the nightstand. He turns off the light and snuggles down into the blankets. The sleeve of the robe is damp, but it smells nice, and Mitch breathes deeply, settling in for sleep.

And then there’s a soft knock on the door.

Mitch opens his eyes, glares straight ahead at the glowing clock display on the nightstand.

Another knock, this time sharper.

Groaning, Mitch throws back the covers and rolls to his feet, shrugging the robe closed so he’s at least not exposing himself to innocent bystanders. As he nears the door, the person knocks again, even louder this time, and Mitch has no idea why they so badly needed to wake him up in the middle of the night. He has everything he ordered from room service.

He swings the door open, frowning and still half-asleep, only to find… Scott. Standing in front of him. Wearing a hoodie and a backpack and a sheepish smile.

“Hi,” he says. “Did I wake you up?”

Scott’s hair is so adorably disheveled, he looks so soft and unreal, that Mitch thinks he might be dreaming this whole encounter.

“I started missing you like two minutes after you left, so I got on the next flight,” Scott tells him.

Mitch tips forward and stretches his arms around Scott’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Just to make sure he’s really here. Scott wraps himself around Mitch and shuffles him backward, back into the room so the door can close. It’s dark again, but Mitch knows Scott’s body well enough by now, he doesn’t need the light to find Scott’s soft lips and soft hair. His hands move unerringly, tangling their bodies together. It’s a good thing, too, because without Scott’s broad hand against his back, Mitch is pretty sure he would fall over.

Scott guides them to the bed and gently pushes Mitch down. Mitch’s eyes have adjusted enough that he can sort of see Scott dropping his backpack to the floor and pulling his sweatshirt over his head. He hears more than sees Scott taking off his shoes and jeans, and then Scott’s crawling over him and pulling the covers up to their heads like a cozy tent.

With skin against skin and their mingled breath caught between them, their cave of blankets warms quickly. Mitch chuckles and closes his eyes.

“Do you want—”

“Yeah, okay.”

Scott nuzzles Mitch’s cheek, his beard scratching until their lips meet again. He arranges his body until Mitch can feel his thick cock hardening, and Scott wraps his hand around both of them at once. Mitch’s cock fills more slowly, and he breaks their kiss to catch his breath as Scott begins stroking them both. Scott kisses his neck instead, pushing the soft collar of the robe aside with his nose so he can latch onto Mitch’s skin. He nibbles and sucks, clearly intent on leaving his mark on Mitch’s body.

Mitch is dazed, dizzy with exhaustion and the spiraling pleasure taking over his brain. Scott’s groaning, thrusting into his hand, sliding his cock right up against Mitch’s through his tight fist. Mitch can feel the moment Scott starts to come. He’s close himself, but Scott’s come slicking his hand, smearing on both of their stomachs is what pushes him over the edge. Mitch grasps Scott’s firm shoulders when his orgasm overwhelms him, digs his nails in as he pants for breath.

Scott keeps stroking him through the aftershocks, kissing his throat as Mitch shudders and shakes. The dizziness hasn’t gone away. Mitch pulls the blankets down just enough to get a rush of fresh air. He’s lethargic, his body slow to respond as Scott shifts them into their usual cuddling position.

“How’d you know my room number?” he murmurs sleepily.

Scott sighs and Mitch can feel his lips stretch into a grin. “I messaged Candice that I wanted to surprise you. It was good, right? You’re happy?”

“It was _so_ good. ‘m so happy. Missed you.”

“I missed you too. So much.”

“Glad you came,” Mitch whispers. Sleep is tugging at him, and at long last he’s ready to give in to its pull.

“Sleep now, baby,” Scott says softly, planting a gentle kiss on Mitch’s cheek. “Sweet dreams. Tomorrow you can introduce me to your world of fashion.”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
